


Lonely With You

by Val_Creative



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, During Canon, Grief/Mourning, Introspection, M/M, Romantic Friendship, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 10:08:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18444377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: There’s a howling in Bran’s heart, mournful, longing.





	Lonely With You

**Author's Note:**

> WE ARE SO CLOSE TO THE FINALE SEASON. AHHHHH. I'm still doing my rewatch and I got to stuff about Bran and Jojen,,,, and I'm feeling a lot of emotions. They're a good ship. Jojen didn't deserve to be killed off. Anyways thanks for reading and any comments welcome! What's your S8 predictions?

 

*

As soon as Meera vanishes through the door, tears glittering in her eyes, The Three-Eyed Raven gazes slowly down on his arm.

He rolls up the brocade and plain, fine-woven linen, exposing his forearm. The Night King's Mark remains as it is, bruising dark and glittering under the taper-light like ice.

_My brother died for you._

"You shouldn't have said that to her," Jojen murmurs, standing beside the massive, wooden chair and watching the door serenely. He's in the thinned, stinking animal hides from Beyond-The-Wall, like the wildlings cover themselves with to survive the harsh conditions. Like Meera, like _Bran_ did.

Bran is _him_. Or had been. He's not so sure now.

 _Bran_.

_Lord Stark._

_Prince of the Greenwood._

_The Three-Eyed Raven._

(Which is false and which is he?)

Scarlet fluid dribbles over Jojen's pale, frost-bitten lips.

"All she wanted was to care for you and protect you…"

He — _Brandon Stark?_ — peers up to Jojen's ashy, shrunken features. A boy who pledged fealty to Bran, swearing by his faith to the Greywater, by the earth and water and bronze, to always hold his council and keep Bran safe until the end, to never fail.

"She couldn't protect me."

"I can't give her what she really wants." Bran stares ahead once more, his voice low and firm.

"And I cannot give you what you want," Jojen replies, finally meeting Bran's eyes, smiling. His golden curls as _bright_ as the mid-day light when Bran caught him wandering out of camp, kneeling down to suck the snowmelt from his trembling, cupped hands. The same hands that held Bran tight, secure and loving.

"What do I want?"

Jojen's smile lengthens, his color flushed and healthy. Dark green woolen tunic and lambskin breeches. It's like glimpsing a memory of his lover, when they had been younger and less burdened by their troubles.

" _Me_ ," he says softly, traveling his fingers over the edge of Bran's jaw.

Feeling nothing. Jojen is gone— a _sparkflash_ of hot kindling within a funeral-pyre.

_I was his and he was mine._

There's a howling in Bran's heart, mournful, longing. Thudding like his father's greatsword upon a stone.

*

 


End file.
